


The Bone Choker

by inquisitor_tohru



Category: The Locked Tomb Trilogy | Gideon the Ninth Series - Tamsyn Muir
Genre: Breasts, Collars, Consensual Sex, F/F, Female Ejaculation, Fingerfucking, Kneeling, Light Dom/sub, Loyalty, Naked Gideon Clothed Harrow, Necromancy, Nipple Play, No Harrow the Ninth Spoilers (Locked Tomb Trilogy), Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Telepathic Sex, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:21:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26360317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inquisitor_tohru/pseuds/inquisitor_tohru
Summary: Gideon might not know shit about the bond between necromancer and cavalier, but she's pretty surethisritual isn't part of it.
Relationships: Gideon Nav/Harrowhark Nonagesimus
Comments: 8
Kudos: 99
Collections: Yes Fest 2020





	The Bone Choker

**Author's Note:**

  * For [reconditarmonia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reconditarmonia/gifts).



Gideon kneeled before Harrow, and bowed her head as her necromancer worked. Without looking, she could picture her bloodied nose, the tiny red beads of exertion clinging to Harrow's painted skin. In the present moment, Gideon's only regret was that she could not look into Harrow's dark eyes in the midst of her creation. Instead, she focused on the bone fusing and tightening around her throat - not enough to restrict her breathing or cause discomfort, but enough that she would not easily forget it was there.

"Don't take it off," Harrow said, "and don't let anyone else take it off, except for me. If it needs to be adjusted or...removed for any reason, the honour and responsibility is mine." They both knew that Gideon could easily snap the delicate filigree bonework with her little finger if she felt like it.

"I might not know shit about the bond between necromancer and cavalier," she said, rising to her full height, "but I'm pretty sure  _ this  _ ritual isn't part of it." 

"No," Harrow conceded, dabbing at the mess of blood and paint on her forehead. For once, Gideon's was neater. "Gideon...this is just for us." Her stomach still did that weird thing when Harrow slipped and called her 'Gideon'.

"Huh." If Gideon could have time-traveled back a few weeks and told her past self that she would kneel before the Reverend Daughter to be collared, she'd have been furious. If she could have told her that Harrow would do so only with her explicit (and rather enthusiastic) consent, she'd have laughed until she puked up Ninth House gruel on her cell floor.

"Take your clothes off," Harrow said. A demand with an unexpected softness that made Gideon's knees go all wobbly. If Harrow noticed, she didn't comment. "I'd...like to see how it looks against your skin." 

"All of them?" Harrow smirked.

"Don't tell me you're _shy,_ Nav." Gideon just grinned as she began to unbuckle, unbutton, and unlace various garments of faded, mismatched blacks. She never had been particularly shy about bodies, whether her own or anybody else's. Besides, this was _Harrow_. She was probably more interested in seeing the jagged outlines of bones beneath her flesh than the flesh itself. Gideon didn't really mind either way. When it came down to it, her bones were just as much a part of her as her breasts, her buttocks, or - saving the best for last - her biceps.

It was no surprise that Harrow chose to remain dressed. Even her neck was covered by the sacramental paint, though a little had begun to shed with the effort of constructing Gideon's beautiful bone choker. Other than the chalky olive peeking out from beneath flaky white paint, the only visible skin was that of Harrow's lovely hands. 

A moment later those hands were drifting from her long, slender clavicles to her flat sternum  _ (probably _ Gideon's favourite bone after flicking through one of Harrow's anatomy texts, on account of its swordlike shape), and then, more unexpectedly, her breasts. 

"I might not be the expert, but I'm  _ pretty  _ sure you're not going to find any bones there." She inhaled sharply as Harrow pinched one of the hard, dark points of her nipples between her thumb and forefinger.

"Then it's a good thing I'm not looking for any." Gideon snickered, because somehow the fact that Harrowhark Nonagesimus had a thing for boobs was, well, kind of hilarious. "I could map out your entire skeleton, Griddle. I know every cracked tooth, each bone broken and reset - sorry about those, by the way."

"Apology accepted."

"But when I saw through your eyes, when I was  _ inside  _ you - the sheer physicality of it…" The paint might have done a half-decent job when it came to concealing Harrow's facial expressions, but the feverish pitch in her tone undid it all. "It was  _ different,"  _ she cut in, just before Gideon had the chance to come up with an amazing pun. 

To be fair, she probably couldn't top any of the ones she'd already made, especially with the added distraction of Harrow's cold hands exploring the curves of her breasts. She whined as a fingernail softly scraped against her nipple, arousal pooling between her legs. When one of those hands slid down to grip her hip, hard enough to leave five pretty little bruises, Gideon was practically ready to beg and, infuriatingly, Harrow knew it.

"Maybe, if you ask nicely..." 

_ "Please,  _ Harrow.  _ Pretty _ please, with whipped cream and a cherry on top." (Gideon had never seen a cherry, but she'd been led to believe that they were delicious.) With that, Harrow wasted no time in curling two slim fingers inside her warm, slick cunt at the same time as rubbing her clit with her thumb, hard and fast - just how Gideon liked it.

_ "Fuck,"  _ she whimpered, having already been so, so close to coming only for Harrow's frenzied pace to slow to lazy, drawn-out strokes. 

"Not yet, Griddle. I want to try something." Gideon simply nodded. She didn't need to ask what Harrow meant, because she already knew. 

If having Harrow ride her mind before had been intense, then having Harrow ride her mind  _ while fucking her  _ really was something else. As she tilted her hips, Harrow's arousal began to mingle with her own - first as a trickle, then a torrent as she was finally allowed to come, gushing out over her thighs, and Harrow's hand.

"Fuck," Gideon said again, as fingers withdrew, revealing the sorry, sodden state of Harrow's sleeve cuff. Her necromancer, her adept, her  _ love  _ slumped forward against her chest, a few short, dark, wispy hairs catching in the bone choker fused around Gideon's neck. They trembled against one another with each ragged breath, their every sensation doubled, maybe somehow even tripled, in intensity. "That was...weird."

"No shit, Nav," Harrow replied sleepily, her breath pleasantly warm against the soft flesh of her breasts. "I'm...going to need a moment." When realisation hit her, Gideon grinned. That actually explained quite a lot of what just happened. The other part of the explanation was that, though she was loathe to admit it, Harrow was somehow  _ really good at sex. _

_ "Oh,  _ so it wasn't  _ just _ me."

"Griddle, not all of us make such a mess," Harrow smirked, making a show of wringing out her sleeve (which was totally unnecessary and totally Harrow). Gideon smirked right back.

"I felt everything you felt, and you were  _ loving _ it." Her necromancer mumbled something that could have been  _ maybe so  _ between her breasts as Gideon stroked the dark hair plastered to the top of Harrow's head. "So, once you're done having your moment...can we try the weird telepathic mind sex again,  _ pretty please?" _

"Well, since you asked so nicely, I'll consider it. But first, I think it's  _ your _ turn to put in some effort." Gideon positively beamed as Harrow gently pushed her shoulders down and she found herself back on her knees. 

She  _ liked _ where this was headed.


End file.
